Scholarworks@UA — UAA Justice Center

June 1984

Bush Justice and Development in : Why Legal Process in Village Alaska Has Not Kept Up with Changing Social Needs [revised]

Stephen Conn

Suggested citation Conn, Stephen. (1984). "Bush Justice and Development in Alaska: Why Legal Process in Village Alaska Has Not Kept up with Changing Social Needs". Paper presented at the annual meeting of the Western Regional Science Association, Monterey, CA, Feb 1984; revised Jun 1984. (http://hdl.handle.net/11122/9771).

Summary This paper analyzes the evolution of the working legal process in the predominantly Alaska Native villages of rural Alaska after Alaska statehood. Replacement of territorial government by highly centralized state justice agencies led to a weakening in the working relationship between formal law and extralegal mechanisms such as the village council. This change coincided with development and other changes which demanded more formal legal presence in villages rather than less. The paper reviews the fate of various bush justice reform efforts made by state agencies and efforts by villages to respond to justice needs. The author suggests that the inadequacy of legal process in village Alaska is not due primarily to language problems or Native confusion about Western law; rather, the "bush justice problem" is caused by a lack of legal planning for development, the state governmental system's lack of accountability to its rural constituency, and a lack of control by villages over the mixture of formal law, extralegal authority and nonlegal social control appropriate to their needs, both present and future. Additional information This manuscript revises a conference paper of the same title; the paper as originally presented can be found at http://hdl.handle.net/11122/9770. A later revision based upon this manuscript was published as "Rural Legal Process and Development in the North" by Stephen Conn. Chap. 10 in Theodore Lane (ed.), Developing America's Northern Frontier, pp. 199–229. Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1987.

UAA is an AA/EO employer and educational institution and prohibits illegal discrimination against any individual: www.alaska.edu/titleIXcompliance/nondiscrimination. RURAL LEGAL PROCESS AND DEVELOPMENT IN THE NORTH: WHY LEGAL PROCESS IN VILLAGE ALASKA HAS NOT KEPT UP WITH CHANGING NEEDS

Stephen Conn, Esq. Professor of Justice

School of Justice University of Alaska, Anchorage June 1984 ' Predominantly Native villages in Alaska1 have a legal process formed from

three essential components: nonlegal social control, extra-legal authority and

Western police, judicial, and correctional services. Planners term the delivery

of these last-mentioned state services to isolated villages, "bush justice."

Many overlook the essential interrelationship between the three components of village legal culture and, in fact, in the development of American legal culture generally. Taken together they form the working legal process in the North.

Legal process in village Alaska has not responded to developmental impacts

because planners ignore the impact of services provided or denied villages from

town-based2 service centers on village legal culture. Villages are denied even elemental authority over their own legal processes formed from these three essential components.

To assess the role of state law in meeting the changing needs of village

Alaska one must understand a longterm and historic relationship between Eskimo or Indian social control, hybrid forms of village-based extra-legal authority, and town-based personnel who represent state legal process.

Given a pervasive absence of reliable data on crime in bush Alaska and a

lack of village authority over introduction of state resources, state agencies address the bush from ingrained institutional perspectives.

Traditionally, communities on the American frontier have moved from non- legal social control to vigilante justice ( termed here extra-legal) to formal

justice in what was not in fact a sequence so much as a succession of overlapping waves. This interaction between social non-legal control, extra-

legal social control and formal legal control is a complex relationship. The components interact and interrelate.

Non-legal Social Control

Non-legal social control has rules and sanctions which can be viewed as the etiquette of the setting (Black, 1976:36). It derives its force from a desire of persons to belong to a group, and to retain the advantages of membership then and in the future. Rule violation can drive members into exile; sanctions can drive members mad. 3 Non-legal social control works very well upon persons engaged in longterm and dependent relationships. It works very poorly when strangers are involved, persons with no special stake in the community or con- cern for the community's perception of them. It works very poorly when the arbiters of etiquette are called into question or when once cohesive societies lose their cohesion (Conn and Hippler, 1973).

Extra-Legal Control

The village council has been the historical vehicle for extra-legal activity in village Alaska (Conn and Hippler, 1975). Extra-legal process binds and draws upon both non-legal social control and legal authority but in fact has a separate identity. Extra-legal process institutionalizes in a demi-legal fashion, non-legal social control. It collects and focuses social pressure upon recalcitrant members and "educates" strangers (or persons with very limited knowledge of or stake in village opinion). It often "legalizes" social pressure by means of threats or enforcement of fines or other legal sanctions (Conn and

Hippler, 1974).

Extra-legal process also draws upon and controls formal legal process to the extent that it determines when formal intervention should occur. It is rein- forced by formal legal process in an unofficial manner when it is granted the authority to accomplish a variety of sublegal tasks or to report formal law violations. This role has the effect of extending the reach of official law into places and circumstances where it cannot or will not reach on its own.

What the extra- legal authority receives in ex change for this responsibility is a kind of derivative power which it can direct to other less clearly authorized tasks (Conn, 1976:217-24).

- 2- Extra-legal authority brokers social control and law and packages both into a new form. That form and its role is highly changeable because it is most dependent upon the forces and demands of non-legal social control and the forces and demands of state law givers.

Extra-legal authority is the dynamic force which "makes law happen" in pla- ces where neither social control nor formal law can or will dominate the lives of the people involved. It is most susceptible to changing needs, but it is also most fragile of the three named forces which make up legal culture in village Alaska.

Formal law has power beyond the comprehension of its own purveyors to drive extra-legal authority from its place in the center of legal culture. It can also weaken extra-legal authority by inaction when that same authority requests intervention. Formal law must not be either too strong or too weak in its asso- ciation with extra-legal authority. It must allow extra-legal authority to guide it in this respect. It can also displace without replacing extra-legal institutions which have institutionalized rules which are not legal and which have proffered the desired approaches to problem solving and dispute resolution be they legal or extralegal. Such is the case in the village of P where the introduction of more formal law now equals less legal process.

The western Alaska Eskimo village of P, 40 miles from town, has every legal resource presently obtainable by rural villages. It has a resident part-time magistrate to handle misdemeanors. Its two cell lockup and police station houses the office of a state trooper constable, a Village Public Safety Officer

(VPSO), and a village policeman.4

Town-based services include a trooper contingent, a superior court judge, a public defender, a district attorney, a legal services attorney and youth serv- ices officer.

-3- P, along with about sixty other villages, has adopted a state local option

law which prohibits importation or sale of alcoholic beverages.

In 1975 I surveyed the same village justice system. P had a magistrate then

as now. The difference was that eight years ago she was hiding from her intoxi-

cated husband. One of its local village police had burned down his own home

during a drinking bout. The other was drunk during our visit. The magistrate

and police then operated out of a modular court and lockup facility (a trailer)

barged up the P river by the court system. The magistrate had stacks of uno-

pened legal materials in her office.

In town, the trooper contingent was half of its present composition (two

instead of four). The town had a magistrate, but no lawyers other than a legal

services attorney. The town had an Alaska Native correctional aide for both

juveniles and adults.

Today there is more law available to P if law is the accumulation of law

givers or formal legal resources. The problem of "arresting one's brother,"

often voiced as the reason why hiring local residents has been difficult for

state justice agencies, had been obviated by hiring transient figures, both

Native and non-Native. While village policeman, the town-based youth services

aide and the magistrate are Alaska Natives, the village policeman and magistrate

are from other villages. Other figures are non-Natives and are from other

places.

P has a magistrate. One hundred and thirty-five other villages lack any

state-appointed judicial officer. P has a VPSO. At least eighty villages lack

a VSPO and must hire and pay their own police. P has a trooper constable. Only

a very few villages have trooper constables,

P has changed in other ways. Its population has nearly doubled in the eight

years between field visits from 400 to 750 people. It has a high school in its

-4- village. It has television and a phone system, new in eight years. A bridge

spans the P river. It has three flights from town daily instead of one.

Yet the village council has complaints about its legal situation. Small

kids and young people drink and disobey curfew. The magistrate is never in her

office. Town-based professionals have no interest in these small matters. The

VPSO and trooper constable make unnecessary arrests and allegedly pick on

people. They influence the magistrate to sentence residents to fines and jail

terms out of proportion to the offense. The police don't listen to the counci l

and question local ordinances.

The police are also unhappy. The youth jeer at them. The town-based social worker and youth services aide tell the VPSO to leave the kids alone. In

August, 1983, a summertime population of young adults repealed the local option

law. For three months arrests were at least four times their number during the

previous seven months of 1983. The council had to take to the streets when the village police quit. Council members put 27 persons in two cells in a single night.

The village voted to ban importation again in November. But, complain the

councilmen, people have learned to sneak liquor into the village.

A neighboring village repealed the local option law after three suicides in

rapid succession. People have discovered that the law does not enforce itself

and that there are severe limits on the way it can be enforced constitutionally

(see Lonner and Duff, 1983).

There is a numbing sense of loss in P. Councilmen tell the author the same

stories about the old council of the 1930s and 1940s that they related to him in

1975: that the council once put a woman and a man who misbehaved outside without clothes. Children were switched with willow branches for acting out.

Is this nostalgia for Eskimo law ways? Is it nostalgia for a time when non-

-5- legal social control and extra-legal council justice played a central role in dealing with legal needs? Or is it nostalgia for a legal system in which some element of authority remained in the village?

P's city council is not the village council of yesteryear. Its agenda is heavy with projects not unlike those of any small town in America. It meets with its professional grantsman on important capital improvement projects; wooden sidewalks for the village, new washers and dryers, and transfer of school housing to the village. The council members are a mix of young and old. All are aware that P floats in a sea of legal jargon and regulations.

When P's council consid rs applications for the jail attendant, the issue of an applicant's age arises. Can an applicant be under 19? Counci 1 members scurry to find the answer in the magistrate's set of statutes and in her admi- nistrative regs. Not finding it, they call the corrections officer in Nome to find out. The fear of breaking the law and being sued is very real. That this sensitivity is so prevalent and so very high in places where the ability to bring or respond to a law suit is close to nonexistent is one of the ironies of bush justice today.

Those who view village initiatives to improve their legal system as attempts to challenge the state legal system or even to separate the village as a legal place from the system that envelops the village sadly misinterpret the village perspective. For village Alaska, the time when Eskimo peoples floated free of

Western law is a distant moment in time as removed from village experience as it is from most community experience in the Western United States.

A working relationship between formal law, extra-legal authority and infor- mal social control which persisted since the late 19th century (Conn, 1980) has broken down. Autonomy and indirect control over state legal services once available to the extra-legal component and, t hrough it, to P is now missing.

-6- P's capacity to guide that legal process to its determined needs has been

removed.

The Structure of the Legal System

With the exception of the village policeman, each member of P's legal

"system" has been hired and is subject to control by a different state or town-

based bureaucracy. Each has a vertical relationship to persons outside of the village that guides the way each does his or her job. In fact, the state legal agents in P relate to town in the exact fashion that town-based professionals relate to Nome ( the hub of the judicial district) and that Nome-based pro- fessionals relate to superiors in Anchorage and in Juneau. P experiences law and order as it is served up by a coalition of vertically directed figures placed in P and subject to removal from P by town and city-based supervisors. P experiences law but does not guide it. P is given the law which separately trained and separately assigned representatives of separately managed state bureaucratic units see fit to provide. The impact of this legal process is not considered by the state and is not controlled by the village.

What P can obtain from state law is some after-the-fact reaction to P's most serious problems. If P complains to any single bureaucracy about its service, the chances are good that its agent in P will be removed to X, Y or Z or any of a hundred plus villages who lack the resources of P and would very much desire them. What P has received is a "trickle down" justice system of parajudges and parapolice, mere scraps of an American law system injected into an Eskimo village. P is a base for a collection of random legal offerings it does not guide or control.

Bush justice has become rural ghetto justice.

-7- Development in a Village Context

Changes in Alaskan village life have occurred within the context of Alaska development during the past two decades. The replacement of territorial govern- ment with state government, the development of transportation and communication networks, the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act (ANCSA), the construction of the TransAlaska Pipeline System (TAPS) and consequent explosion of government spending have all left their marks on the village lanrlscapes and populations.

While di vision of these events into historical stages is difficult - most especially because regions of bush Alaska have historically felt change at dif- ferent times and at different degrees when compared with each other or when clusters of villages are compared in a single region - two periods are notable for their influence when the combined forces of development and changing legal needs are considered.

First, the early 1960' s when Alaska state law personnel replaced terri- torial law personnel in the towns which service village Alaska. They refused to reinforce prohibitions on Native drinking by extra-legal village authority, the single most persistent role of white legal officialdom from the Russians to statehood (see Conn, 1980). In a shift of legal position which caught many villages by surprise, the state refused to validate village council bans on the manufacture of hootch or to impose other limits on transportation of liquor from towns (Conn, 1982). The district attorneys and bush troopers promised as a de facto matter to reinforce enforcement of villages rules by transposing some of these violations into state law violations after several attempts by the council to act. However, the very limited allocation of police and prosecutorial serv- ices to rural Alaska made response to village requests uncertain and destroyed the credibility of both state law and extra-legal council justice in the eyes of many villagers.

-8- This weakening in the working relationship between formal law and extra-

legal mechanisms such as the village council was coincidental with developmental

shifts that demanded more formal legal presence in the villages rather than

less.

In Southwestern Alaska where the largest numbers of village Eskimos and

Indians reside, Bethel emerged as a source of wages and liquor. In the midst of

a population explosion, the region's young men and women migrated toward vil-

lages more proximate to Bethel. 5

In a series of meetings, the Association of Village Council Presidents

decried the opening of a liquor store and bars in Bethel. Councilmen equated

the death of their young men in alcohol-related accidents, shootings and sui-

cides to war; they requested legal advice to contain Bethel's influence on their

villages (Conn, 1982:25-27).6 What they received were admonitions against

illegal acts by their councils and advice that only Bethel citizens could deal

directly with Bethel's liquor situation whatever the impact on surrounding

satellite villages. Councilmen were told to write the governor and the Alcohol

Beverage Control Board. As to their own local problems, they were advised to

develop consensual approaches to problems which could not be dealt with by state

law.

Without reliable support from town-based legal personnel, councils became more like police courts which meted out fines and even jail terms and less like

brokering institutions which stressed compromise and counseling as a prelude to

"calling in the law." Village councils could not act as courts under state law.

Only court appointed magistrates could undertake that task. The court system

placed magistrates in about sixty villages in the late 1960s, employing War on

Poverty funds, but were never pleased by the administrative and operational

problems caused by designating parajudges to distant villages. After two

-9- magistrate stu

the court system retreated to the proposition that town-based judicial officers

should handle village problems large and small once they were termed "legal."

The size of the village magistrate system was not increased.

What placement of magistrates accomplished from the village perspective was

to implant an agent of state law into the village. He or she had unquestioned authority to handle minor criminal matters and small civil claims. What she lacked was the capacity of the village council to buttress social control in the village with approaches familiar and acceptable to village people. Also, removed from their jurisdiction were children's problems and a range of extra- legal prohibitions on behavior.

Magistrates could displace but not easily replace the extra-legal brokering component of village culture (Conn and Hippler, 1973). As part-time court employees very low on the organizational totem pole, they were also in no posi- tion to initiate reforms.

The Structure of State Law and its Influence

The destabilization of village council justice occurred for reasons which would have continuing influence on the issue of legal planning to meet changing village needs, both in the 1960s and in the decade thereafter.

The legal process of Alaska was packaged constitutionally in separately administered, highly centralized departments and divisions. The court system, the Department of Public Safety, the Department of Law, the Division of

Corrections (and later the Division of Youth Services) and the Public Defender

Agency emerged as independently administered fiefdoms (Conn, 1981).

For most of these agencies, bush responsibilities were satisfied by placing departmental representatives in as few regi o a l centers as possible and by drawing villages' problems into towns and cities.

-10- Only the Department of Public Safety viewed the bush as its principal constituency as urban police departments made trooper work less essential in the state's population centers. But this enthusiasm for bush service on the part of the troopers did not result in placement of officers in all settlements. The troopers, also, chose to follow the territorial model and place most detachments in towns.

Each component of the justice system had its own determined service boun- daries. The court system continued to use the judicial districts inherited from riverboat days (with some slight variations). Decisions on professional place- ment and decisions on data gathering and record keeping were independently made.

Records on village Alaska were intermingled with those of urban centers by all agencies. To what extent had the state accepted its responsibility to offer services to Native villages in rural Alaska? There appears to have been an inherited state governmental attitude that the federal government would take care of Native problems, this despite the fact that Congress in 1958 extended territorial (later state law) over criminal and some civil offenses in Indian country within Alaska. 7

In territorial days there had been some structural division between govern- ance for whites and governance for non-whites in the territory. The special provision for schooling of Alaska Natives as Native Americans in Bureau of

Indian Affairs village and boarding schools was a good example of this division.

Hospital care for Natives through Alaska Native Service facilities was another.

Teaching and law and order had been introduced together by deputizing teachers who set about organizing early village councils (Strickland, ed., et al.,

1982:764).8

Although villages near Bethel discovered in the early 1960s that a working relationship between formal law and village authority had broken down, many

-11- other rural areas did not see this as critical until later. Developmental events had impacts that differed from region to region and within regions. 9

The 197Os was a decade marked by the megaprojects which brought oil wealth to Alaska. No longer could the state plead poverty when the plight of village law and order was discussed. Oil revenues flowed with pipeline oil. Even earlier than that, the Law Enforcement Assistance Administration (LEAA) promised to reward the state bureaucratic network with federal funds to develop and to supplement criminal law service in rural and in urban Alaska .10 This led to the establishment of the Governor's Commission on the Administration of Justice and to the creation of its staff arm, the Criminal Justice Planning Agency.

Chief Justice George Boney took the helm of the Governor's Commission. He wrote and spoke of regional bush justice centers to train rural persons to take up law-related activities. Along with Vic Fischer of the Institute of Social and Economic Research he convened the first of what would become three conferen- ces on bush justice in the decade. In addition, each major developmental pro- ject spawned social and economic impact statements which addressed the way that village life would be affected by the project at hand.

All of these heady developments could not have been more promising for bush justice improvements through coordinated state planning. They provided a finan- cial raison d'etre for collaboration among state justice agencies, strong leadership from the court system to direct the Governor's Commission toward rural justice problems, the first of three slates of bush justice recommenda- tions, these drawn from non-Native expertise from Alaska and Canada (along with symbolic bush representation) as well as periodic social impact statements from state, federal and private experts on proposed construction projects, and, finally, a state criminal justice planning agency.

The "Native community" also enjoyed important new leverage on the legal system. While reapportionment decisions had begun to erode bush legislative

-12- representation, the emergence of Native corporations had provided the Native minority with new political clout. Further, Native leadership who had lobbied

Congress effectively could transfer that expertise to the halls of the state legislature.

What Did Occur

The first bush justice conference in 1970 acknowledged the importance of village councils to the administration of justice in remote Alaska (Alaska

Judicial Council, Bush Justice Conference, 1970:2). It gave equal weight to the need for Native participation at all levels of the administration of justice.

(Id:2). Although few participants in this conference were Native people from rural Alaska, its agenda of recommendations spoke to many practical failings of the state system to address rural needs. It requested trials to be held in rural areas and increased travel by police and courts.

Yet this agenda for reform, as well as two other slates of recommendations which flowed from two other bush justice conferences, ultimately came to naught.

Would-be reformers, including University scholars and an Alaska Federation of

Natives bush justice team, were essentially outsiders to both the bureaucratic decision-making process an

Early in the decade a criminal justice planner reported to the Commission that only 10. 8 percent of Alaska's LEAA block grants and 11. 1 percent of all

LEAA funds directly benefited bush areas. Eighty percent of this amount went to construct five jails and to fund police training programs (Schwartz, 1973:4).

To understand this di version of LEAA funds to urban and central bureaucratic needs, one needed only to examine the composition of the Governor's Commission.

On the Commission sat agency heads or designees, the police chiefs of Alaska's largest cities, legislative representatives and a lone rural representative.

That latter person was usually a bush magistrate or a person with no connection

-13- to any organization engaged in reform of the legal process.

Chief Justice Boney died in a boating accident in May, 1972. From that time forward the Commission served as a conduit for funneling federal money into established state bureaucracies and to urban police departments. Smaller police departments and other non-line social service agencies were left to scramble for the leavings after the feast.

There was no centralized process for translating studies, even LEAA-funded studies, into plans of action.11 The position of the Criminal Justice Planning

Agency and LEAA representatives in the Seattle region was that Indian matters should be dealt with and funded by the Indian desk of LEAA although "Indian villages" in Alaska are, with one exception, non-reservation communities subject to state criminal law.

When the Criminal Justice Planning Agency finally did fund a study to garner

"hard data" on the rural situation in 1977, it discovered that the hard data did not exist. It questioned police and local officials for informal estimates of crime. John Angell analyzed (1979) and later published (1981) this data drawn from questionnaires designed to discover the state of bush justice in 55 vil- lages selected because of the presence of some components of the Western system

( such as a state magistrate). His report described the delays of as much as three days 12 in service from town- based police and the near absence of knowledge of justice components other than the state troopers. It also depicted what may be the highest rate of reported crime in the United States. The Angell report stressed that while small white communities were isolated for purposes of data collection in police statistics, village Alaska was included in a catchall category.

-14- The State Legislative Approach

Bush Alaska has been viewed constitutionally as the great subject to governance as a whole by the state legislature, acting as its borough assembly. The Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act divided Alaska into presumed cultural sectors for purposes of land distribution. This division was employed as a de facto way to deal with rural Natives through their non-profit regional corporations. The court system (among others) fought off an attempt to realign its districts to this grid, arguing that it would place judges under too much local pressure. 13

The state legislature listened to state departments, cities and towns in rural Alaska, but not to the villages.14

Bush legislators during the first half of the decade focused on success- ful implementation of land claims and introduction of high schools into the villages. No consideration was given, either by the state legislators or by the state agencies who deal with youth and family services, to the impact year-round of a youthful presence in small villages where the high schools were constructed.15

Regionalization of services contracted by the state or federal government through the non-profit Native corporations (whose good work had aided in the passage of the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act) emerged as the practical indirect working relationship between state agencies and the villages. Regional corporations became friendly conduits for state and federal funds for studies such as the 55 village study and for more recent programs such as the Village

Public Safety Officer Program.16

For the state to deal with non-profit corporations or rural school districts as conduits for state programs the reins of which remained in state hands was different from a unilateral conveyance of state power to regionally-based governmental structures. This approach demonstrated how jealously guarded was

-15- the concept of centralized state authority.

Development of the legal process on the North Slope Borough well illustrates

the political and administrative tensions engendered by an official sharing of

power with rural Alaska. After its stormy beginning (marked by oil opposition

to the formation of a local taxing authority) the North Slope Borough requested

and assumed boroughwi

one town in that 4,000 person Inupiat region (McBeath and Morehouse, 1980).

As originally conceived, the North Slope Borough Police were to be a tri-

service (police, paramedic, and firemen) effort shepherded into existence by

former state trooper and court personnel employed by the NANA Development

Corporation as well as by the Department of Public Safety (see Moeller, 1978:16 and NANA Development Corporation, 1976) •17 Rifts between the Department of

Public Safety and the North Slope Borough government led to the peremptory remo- val of the single trooper post on the region. Further tensions between the

Department of Law and the new police operation lead to a period when few cases were prosecuted by the Fairbanks office of the Department of Law. 18

Confronted with cases which were not prosecuted, the North Slope Borough undertook a massive campaign of proactive protective custody apprehensions.

Five years would pass before the court system, Public Defender and Department of

Law would begin to locate resident professionals in Barrow to give what became a massively overpoliced rural district some balance in its Western legal process.

Conceptualization of the Problem and Its Solution

Attempts over the decade to conceptualize the legal needs of rural villages against the backdrop of social change often lead even sympathetic observers to provide program planners and program implementers with excuses for their

failures. The "problem of bush justice" was described as one of a culture c lash between Native law ways and state law. It was believed that anthropologists

-16- could probe Native law ways and discern from that analysis those aspects of

Native law ways which kept the legal system from functioning. The operative assumption was that law did not work in Native villages because the consumers of law were not prepared to appreciate it. 19

While there was some truth to the proposition that Western law remained a confusing mystery to villagers, that confusion stemmed largely from the mislead- ing signals given off by state law representatives, especially the de facto arrangements given credence by town-based officials who were then transferred to another post leaving no institutional memory in their wake. Village council process and village council records had from the turn of the century reflected de facto working relationships induced by Western law officers as much as they reflected ingrained Eskimo or Athabascan attitudes toward conflict resolution.

State law administrators did not want to hear that the customary law system in the villages was formed by the bush law ways of Western law agents and not by the law ways of Natives.

Moving from what was perceived to be a cultural adaptation problem of

Eskimos and Indians, the justice agencies spoke of solving their clients' problems by offering bilingual explanations of their clients' rights or by edu- eating students to the American law system. This same view that the bush justice problem stemmed from cultural misunderstandings had a second negative effect. There was strong resistance to either institutionalization of the de facto working relationship between formal law and extra-legal process or to suggestions that classic Western law jobs or procedures be adapted to the unu- sual bush environment.

Even though an urban legal process could not be introduced into any small village because of lack of funds and appropriately credentialed personnel (as well as to lack of agency interest or commitment), plans which suggested that

- 17- paraprofessionals or conciliation panels be authenticated as components of the system were rejected by the court system (see Marquez and Serdahely, 1977).2O

This paranoia demonstrated not only a lack of appreciation of the rural law process as it evolved historically but a lack of apreciation for American legal history and the persistent adaptive component to American legal machinery.

The Institutional Impetus for Reform

When suggestions for adaptation or reform of traditional law jobs or insti- tutions were made, their central ingredients were often strongly colored by bureaucratic imperatives.

In 1980, the Department of Public Safety, acknowledging that "Rural Alaska has the distinction of having the worst record for public safety of any of the

50 states" (Department of Public Safety, 1980:1), requested state funding for

Village Public Safety Officers who would replace village police, persons trained periodically but paid through village and job training funds.

The Department's proposal for VPSOs acknowledged the continuing failure of law enforcement in the bush as well as trooper jurisdiction "in almost all rural areas ...." (Id:1).

From their bush outposts they attempt to respond immediately to emergencies as quickly as possible to felony cases, and routinely to misdemeanors but their efforts are often hampered by delayed notifica- tion, long response distance, the uncertainties of weather and transportation and limited manpower and budget.

* * *

The high turnover in personnel caused by low salaries and the difficul- ties that face a village policeman who may have to arrest friends and relatives, have all combined to generally frustrate law enforcement at the village level. As a result, many problems in the villages remain unresolved.

Not surprisingly, the extent, type and frequency of crime in rural Alaska is not known due to lack of a local reporting mechanism and a state records system that yields data only on a regional, rather than a community basis (Id:1,2).

Unlike former proposals for the training and hire of local police, the VPSO

-18- program was designed to assure village officers that pay would be adequate and

reliable. Appropriations to the Department of Public Safety were to be paid

through the non-profit Native regional corporations to the personnel in the villages thus regionalizing and disconnecting VPSOs from the trooper organiza-

tion.

The policing function of VPSO was to be coupled with training and work in fire fighting, 21 search and rescue, and emergency medical treatment. VPSOs were to meet their law enforcement functions, chiefly enforcement of village ordinances with a "serviceable, distinctive uniform and parka, handcuffs and baton but without a handgun" (Id:7).22

This broadened job responsibility should enhance the perception of these Village Public Safety Officers by other village residents. No longer would he only be a policeman and be associated with just arresting people. Now he would be cast in a more favorable role, such as rendering medical assistance, organizing search and rescue efforts, developing fire protection program and similar efforts (Id:2).23

The end result of the VPSO program was to solidify the jurisdictional pre- sence of the Alaska State Troopers in rural Alaska. The VPSOs were viewed as components of an essentially informal or extra-legal village council - and police - structure. The troopers, unlike other state agencies, had consistently recognized that village councils and problem boards which mediated disputes served a necessary function in absence of effective enforcement of local ordi- nances which dealt with minor problems. 24 Councils continued into the late

25 1970s to deal with legal matters in an extra-legal manner. The troopers called for development of local mechanisms for dispute resolution (Id: 9) .26

However, the question remained whether the level of formal law enforcement was sufficient to deal with those problems not amenable to an informal or customary solution.

The Department of Public Safety's options were proscribed by its need to maintain a territorial jurisdiction and by its unionized personnel structure.

-19- Even as it admitted its own lack of success in bringing law and order to vil- lages, it could develop no other solution than a police aide program for vil- lages, a program which left individual police as unarmed "lone rangers" in small villages. Actual police work on state law offenses remained in trooper hands.

Institutional Perspectives as Planning Perspectives

The court system and the trooper organization have taken two overtly dissim- ilar positions with respect to meeting the legal needs of village Alaska.

However, both adopted institutional perspectives as planning perspectives.

As stated, the court system began to place lay magistrates in the villages in the late 1960s, but then convinced itself that town-based judges could better receive the business of the court, leaving 135 villages without a judicial officer. It has rejected proposals that its underworked magistrates act as pro- bation or as youth services officers, that it "cover'' for the failings of other state agencies even as it decried those failings when they raise difficulties for the court system (Second Magistrate Advisory Committee, 1978).27

Both the court and trooper organization are equally self-centered in their assessment of rural Alaska. However, unlike the court, trooper concern with effective law enforcement through an increased trooper presence is genuine in both villages and towns. Yet one must wonder whether alternative models to rural law enforcement are overlooked in order to retain a trooper presence in village Alaska. Do villagers want police who do three jobs instead of one and who are unarmed? Some critics suggest that three jobs in three households are more acceptable. One must wonder whether other organizational models of policing have been dismissed or ignored because the Alaska State Troopers, like the court system, view the problem from a distinctly ingrained institutional perspective that does not include decentralization of legal authority to rural villages.

-20- Development in The Villages - The Impact Statements

Planning For Change

The Pipeline Project and its peak construction years from 1974-76 was, in fact, no more than one of several sources of change on the Alaska village scene since the early 1960s. While the pipeline had an acknowledged and direct impact on interior villages and on the villages of the Inuit North Slope, its secondary impact as oil wealth was translated into state subsidies and state appropria- tions that touched every village. Substantial improvement in communication and transportation through satellite telephones and new landing str ips eroded distance as an obstacle to material improvement, but also as an obstacle to the importation of alcohol and drugs. High school construction in more than eighty villages in the 1970s had as its secondary impact the transfer of school age villagers from boarding schools and towns to year round residence in villages.

Development of state and federal services made towns which act as regional centers attractive to villagers who sought employment. Village growth near regional centers was an early expression of development in the 1960s. So, also, did significant reduction of infectious disease and infant mortality change village population patterns. A succession of housing projects in the late 1960s and early 1970s brought wage earning opportunities, new living patterns and new demands for cash payment for fuel oil.

ANCSA's influence on villages ranged from employment in village corporations to systematic reordering of village lots and public and private property.

Hunting technology improved to such an extent that subsistence activities came to be matters which expended vastly less time; cash needs for such equipment demanded that the hunter find wages to pay for this new snow-go technology.

Development of Native villages has not then been as directly influenced by specific projects or events in Alaska as by the results of federal and state

- 21- money spent in rural Alaska. While impact statements dealt at length with the impact of a pipeline construction project near one or more Native villages, they were not required when high schools were constructed in eighty or more villages or when telephone service was improved. It is the secondary and tertiary waves of developmental influences that change the texture and content of village life.

These influences were rarely addressed by mandated impact statements.

State agency information regarding villages or their law and order com- ponents was close to nonexistent during this peak period of developmental flux.

Alaska Planning and Management prepared an Alaska Community Survey of 271 vil- lages for the state in 1972. The material provided did not include any reference to law and order services (Alaska Planning and Management:1972).

The Interior Department's TransAlaska Pipeline (TAPS) impact statement

(1972) stressed the overriding impact of the Claims Settlement Act as a catalyst for economic and social change (1972:252). Its authors viewed pipeline impact upon Natives as principally a product of geographical proximity to construction

(1972:238). The state's comments on the pipeline project (Alaska:1971) foresaw little more village impact than "more money being put into the economy of rural villages through wages sent home" (1971:153). 28 Criminal activity would occur, the state predicted, where large numbers of persons concentrated. 29

When the state officially examined the impact of TAPS construction on the administration of criminal justice it stressed that with the exception of the troopers and Anchorage and Fairbanks police departments, "most police agencies in the state almost totally lack comprehensive criminal activity statistics"

(Alaska:1976, 12).

Given "a lack of an overall comprehensive and systematic process for col- lecting, maintaining, retrieving and analyzing statistics generated by criminal justice agencies" (Id.), the Department of Law could only speculate on the

-22- reasons for a rise from two percent to four percent of statewide reported crimi- nal activity from 1969 to 1973 in the rural Western and Northern Regions

(1976:32). It suggested that the rate of crime reported related to increased

Alaska state trooper activity "rather than an unprecedented rise in crime"

(Id.).

When the Rural Impact Information Program in Fairbanks attempted to study the impact of TAPS on interior Athabascan communities, it discovered that there were "no figures to determine the extent of [child abuse, rapes, assaults, and suicides] or their incidence compared with that of the pre-pipeline period.

Without these figures it is impossible to judge the impact of the pipeline on crime rates" (Rural Impact Information Program, 1977:96).

What was the pipeline construction's impact then on crime in rural commun- ities? The Rural Impact Information Program discovered that data was recorded according to detachment boundaries which encompass urban and rural places and which do not coincide with boundaries of other state or Native organizations.

(See Rural Impact Information Program, 1977:95.) Equally problematic were the limited numbers of law enforcement personnel stationed in the interior; troopers were stationed in hub communities of Ft. Yukon, Galena, McGrath, Tok and Delta

Junction and prepared to respond to major crimes (Id.). Although the report failed to discover the direct impact of the pipeline on crime, several traits of rural villages did emerge which suggested how problems could emerge.

First, villages lost key personnel to pipeline employment leaving operation of the village to less qualified persons (1977:100). In this vein, better trained village police were siphoned off to take up jobs as pipeline security personnel .30 As the rural impact program discerned, population decrease can work serious harm on small villages although impact funds appeared to be directed at places where population and the impact on services wouldincrease.

-23- Real income was often said to fall in villages since jobholders made their purchases elsewhere (1977:101). Charter traffic increased while the size of regularly scheduled craft was reduced. The result was that "booze bombers" could arrive when large items such as food or construction materials were left at transfer points for long periods (1977:139).

Conclusions from the Pipeline Experience

One of the authors of the 1971 and 1976 state reports on the impact of TAPS on rural crime has stated that Alaska had enough concentrated opposition to the pipeline construction project without feeding that opposition more ammunition in the form of predictions of crime in rural villages (Havelock interview, 1983).

Even if the state had desired to measure the impact of this develomental pro- ject, it could not. It lacked baseline data. The region involved also lacked fundamental law and order services.

Angell (1979) concluded:

Alaska has two separate and unequal justice systems. The system which exists in the commercial population centers of the state is highly articulated, readily identified, staffed, funded and extensively managed. Its problems are reasonably well documented, although not completely solved. The system in the rural Native communities of the state is invisible. It is invisible because data concerning its opera- tions are infrequently accumulated and it has not been the subject of the kind of scrutiny given the urban system.

Due to the dearth of information about the Bush Justice system, its problems are difficult to identify and comparisons of its efficiency and effectiveness with other justice operations have not been pre- viously done • • • " (Angell, 1979: 72).

Recommendations of the Rural Impact Information Programs for future "impact" situations in rural Alaska deserve republication:

Data on conditions in rural communities should be gathered and published on a regular basis, not just during impact periods. Adequate planning for impact situations is not possible without an understanding of existing conditions. A meaningful analysis of impact is impossible without baseline data with which to make comparisons.

State record-keeping should allow retrieval of information relating specifically to rural areas. Most state departments currently divide

-24- the state into regions containing at least one urban area, and regional reports make it impossible to differentiate between statistics for rural and urban areas.

State departments should monitor the demands made upon their services as a result of impact and should evaluate the adequacy of their response to those demands. The monitoring effort should continue throughout the impact period and should not be limited to providing justification for increased budgets.

Increase in population should not be the only criterion for determining a community's need for impact assistance. Some communities that do not experience population growth nonetheless experience indirect impacts such as loss of valuable manpower. Assistance to these communities might take the form of training of additional members of the community in vital skills so that the loss of one resident does not endanger the deli very of a community service (Rural Impact Information Program, 1977:iii).

These recommendations suggest that beneath and even more significant than the absence of legal planning for development in rural Alaska is the lack of accountability of the state governmental system to its rural constituency.

There can be no planning because the prerequisites for planning are absent in their entirety. There is no basis for defining need or for connecting need with change. There is also no control by villages over the mixture of formal law, extralegal authority and non-legal social control appropriate to their needs, both present and future.

-25- NOTES

1 In the 566,000 square mile state of Alaska, half of the population live in

towns and villages usually accessible only by river, sea or air. Within the

latter rural population are 55,000 Indians, Eskimos and Aleuts who reside in

about 140 villages with populations from 25 to 700 persons and 300 persons on

average. Another half dozen Native towns have populations from 1,500 to 3,000

persons.

2 Towns are where the superior court, district attorney, public defender,

corrections or youth services officers and legal services attorneys work and

reside.

3 So complex is this etiquette in Eskimo villages that drunken behavior may

be seen as taking "time out" from the pervasive compliance with sophisticated

social cues and fear of sanctions. Characterization of drunken behavior as

"being crazy" means that one is not responsible for one's actions (Conn, 1977).

4 The trooper constable is an employee of the Department of Public Safety who handles criminal offenses of every kind in P and in neighboring villages of Q and R. Trooper constables are allowed to remain in rural locations permanently and are hired against somewhat reduced standards in order to attract rural per-

sons who might not qualify as troopers or desire to rotate into the cities.

The VPSO is an unarmed multipurpose policeman, trained in emergency medical

ical care and in firefighting, who handles lesser offenses and "holds the scene"

for either town-based troopers or for the trooper constable. Ordinary village

police are locally hired by the village government (see Sellin, 1981).

5 In the 1960's the Native population in the Bethel region showed an annual

increase of 29.4 per thousand with a crude birth rate of 45.9, one that Tussing

and Arnold noted (1969) was perhaps the highest birth rate in the world. Deaths

by tuberculosis have been contained in the 1950's by Public Health service cam-

-26- paigns and infant mortality reduced. The net result was a young population

(median age 16.5 in 1969) with increasing pressure upon elders in the villages who exercised traditional guidance and social control (See Hippler and Conn,

1973). Population increases were significant in both the town of Bethel and in surrounding villages.

Bethel, the only natural deep fresh water port, established itself as admin- istrative center of the region as well as prime market for fish processing. Its population grew from 651 in 1950 to 1,258 in 1960, and 1,600 in 1966, fed pri- marily by young Natives who sought access to the limited but new wage opportuni- ties available in that town. Village traffic to Bethel by snowmobile or plane in winter and by boat in summer increased.

Villages surrounding Bethel also grew in population. For example, Akiachuk grew from 179 persons in 1950 to 310 persons in 1966. Kwethluk grew from 242 to

375 persons in 1966. Napakiak grew from 139 to 254 in the same period and

Napaskiak from 121 to 215. The neighboring communities of Nunapitchuck and

Kasigluk on the Johnson River had, by 1969, combined populations of 626.

Bethel's share of the region's population, estimated by Tussing and Arnold to have changed from 7.9 percent in 1950 to almost 13 percent in 1967(1969:33) occurred because economic development focused there. Along with establishment of State and Federal bureaucracies for the region, came a housing fabrication plant and modern homes, establishment of a regional high school with dormitory facilities and a fishprocessing plant.

While an estimated 70 to 80 percent of the male work force could find seaso- nal work during the summer as commercial fishermen, cannery employees, or as laborers and tradesmen in Bethel's economic boom, no more than 5 percent of working-age Native population were regular wag e earne s (1969: 38).

Natives were thus marginal to the region's economy and still largely par-

- 27 - ticipants in the subsistence economy. Capital received in wage earning was used to purchase new hunting technology ( such as snowmachines), technology which substantially reduced the gap between expert hunter and fisherman and non-expert with some consequent secondary influence on social control by old of young.

Transfer payments (especially welfare) went to about a fourth of the Native households (Tussing, Id.).

Thus, while Bethel as town came to have an allure and importance, not uncom- mon in prompting outmigration from villages by the young, especially villages distant from the town, population increase was also evident in villages surrounding Bethel. Both the town and villages were changing from villages of yesteryear.

6 For the village leaders to make a connection between Bethel and its liquor and increasing deaths of young people who traveled to and from Bethel was entirely appropriate. Later studies of Native mortality (including homicide and suicide) especially those by Krauss ( 1977) show a replacement of deaths by infectious diseases with high rates of deaths by accidents, suicide and homi- cide, far in excess of non-Native population during the 1960-1969 period.

Village leaders correctly recognized that violent death, associated with alcohol use, had established itself as a leading cause of mortality with the decrease in infectious diseases.

7 Public Law 280, Act of Aug. 8, 1958, Pub.L.No. 85-615,72 Stat. 545

(codified at 18 U.S.C. Sec. 1162, 28 U.S.C. Sec. 1360).

8 Though both federal and state officials had apparently forgotten it by statehood, the Congress and Interior department had validated the village councils' authority to act as tribal governing bodies of Indian Reorganization

Act communities in the 1930s. This potential tribal legal authority of villages to handle some of their own law and order matters was not argued again until

-28- nearly twenty-five years after statehood (Case, 1978).

9 A good example of the latter variation were coastal villages in the Bethel region that remained relatively immune to the social convulsions of town life, wage earning opportunities and bootleggers until the late 1970s (Conn,

1982:71-74). Even to the mid-1970s, these villages demonstrated themselves sta- tistically to be very free of alcohol-related accidents and crimes when compared with the villages near Bethel and with upriver Athabascan villages.

Communication links both by phone and airplane were problematic. Church influence was strong. So strong was social control, both institutionalized and non-institutionalized, that recurrent offenders found it expedient to move away.

Even in Bethel, villagers from this coastal cluster did not drink to excess or

"let off steam. "

However, by the end of the 1970s, telephone communication and air transpor- tation had improved. A village high school kept the children at home. Letters to the Assistant District Attorney from the coastal villages reflected the change: complaints of drunken violence and youth in trouble with liquor and drugs predominated.

IO Pub.L.No. 90-351, Secs 101-601, 82 Stat. 197 (codified as amended in altered sections of 5,42 u.s.c.).

11 Angell (1979) indicates that Alaska criminal justice plans from 1969 to

1977 "devote only passing reference to the rural Native villages of the state"

(Angell, 1979: 56). The 1978 plan listed nearly all white communities with police whatever their population while ignoring larger Native communities with police (Id:57).

"[CJ rime statistics available apparently could not be arranged to reflect

the crime rates in Native villages. Therefore, crime rates apparently have not been considered in rural planning" (Id).

-29- 12 The head of the Department of Public Safety, when confronted with this

data, suggested that trooper involvement in the survey had caused village offi-

cials to minimize the actual length of time necessary to respond. He suggested

that seven days was a more likely figure (Nix interview, 1977).

l3 Redistricting to better service rural Alaska was recommended by the Alaska

Judicial Council, Judicial Districting Report With Proposed Recommendations,

July 1974. The court rejected the proposal.

14 Early in the decade drunken behavior was decriminalized. This change removed from the arrest dockets Native persons who were often rounded up masse in Alaskan cities and towns (Friedman, 1970). The process of collection of inebriates had already given way to a "waiver" program that made court appearances unnecessary. Police in cities and towns continued to collect num- bers as high as half of the resident Native po pulation under protective custody

provisions (Conn and Boedeker, 1983). However, villages were in no position to use this dragnet approach. The net effect for them was to nullify village drunk in public and drunk in private ordinances but to leave no practical replacement

for villages •

15 Village high schools were introduced in the context of regionally-based

school districts. Village parents discovered tthat power in these districts

reposed in the towns which served as regional centers, in the unionized faculty

and in the school administration.

In a soon-to-be-released study on urban and rural institutionalization within the Alaska juvenile justice system, David Parry (1983) estimates that 37

percent of Alaska's young people live in villages and towns where there are no youth services officers.

16 Whether villages were entirely satisfied with this arrangement was not as

clear. In 1977 village council members went to Washington to soundly rebuke a

-30- plan to make non-profit regional corporations into "Indian tribes" for purposes

of the federal trust relation. (United States Senate Select Committee, 1978;

see also, Conn and Garber, 1981). In this critique of formalization of the

regional community at the federal level, they were joined by urban Native

leaders who argued that the Land Claims Act's Native corporations, both village

and regional, provided a structural basis for carrying out governmental respon-

sibilities without the creation by Congress of a new tribal relationship (see

testimony of Roy Huhndorf, Select Committee 1978:404-407).

Just as villages were reluctant to give over absolutely local governmental authority, so were Native leadership, schooled in the political process of land

claims, unwilling to see power dissipated among many tiny villages. That strat- egy had been one unsuccessfully pursued by the state during the Congressional debate over the Claims Settlement Act (Berry, 1975).

17 "The NANA consultants were careful to explain that the new organization was

to supplement rather than replace the Alaska State Trooper activity in the

Borough. It is clear they did not anticipate any state trooper reduction in

personnel in the North Slope" (Angell, 1977:9).

18 Two white campers were killed by a Native man whose earlier case had been dismissed for lack of prosecution. News reports spoke of violence in Barrow and anti-white hostility. In fact, what had occurred was the breakdown in calla-

boration between justice agencies when a borough agency displaced a state agency.

19 The State Supreme Court in Gregory State (1976) stated, "We also

recognize that the trial court is obligated to be certain that each citizen, when involved in a criminal matter, is aware of the various rights guaranteed him by the Alaska and United States Constitution." To this was footnoted the

following:

-31- The Anglo-American system of justice differs substantially from the traditional Indian, Eskimo and Aleut systems, which pre-dated Western cultures by hundreds of years. The cultural difficulties experienced by many of the Alaska Natives as the contemporary Anglo-American insti- tutions reach out to the bush communities require that the State legal system use extreme care in cases of this nature. Therefore, in those areas where a substantial portion of the populations consists of Native Alaskans, we urge the admini s t rative office of the court system to develop bilingual explanations of basic rights for those who appear in criminal proceedings so that all citizens are clearly aware of their constitutional rights." Gregory at p. 380.

20 The Magistrate advisory panel of judges and lawyers recommended that the court system disassociate itself from alternatives to dispute adjustment in rural villages even as national figures urged an increase in options to going to court (Second Magistrate Advisory Committee, 1979:22). Its report stated:

Policy Regarding Alternative Processes for Local Resolution of Minor Disput es. While the court should encourage villages and appropriate agencies to experiment with alternative processes for out of court resolution of minor disputes, the court should not become actively involved in selecting, implementing, or evaluating alternative processes. (Second Magistrate Advisory Committee, 1979:29.).

21 The Department cited the danger of death by fire in rural Alaska, "the greatest loss of life due to fire ••• in the entire Western World" (1980:2).

22 Initially the trooper proposal called for villages to decide whether VPS0s carried firedarms (Id:7). Later regulations required that VPS0s meet marksmanship standards of urban police officers.

23 A similar working relationship between "demi-police" and "real police" had been proposed to the North Slope Borough. The North Slope Borough had opted for a trooper-style police operation of its own.

When Barrow traded its town police for the trooper-style Borough Police and began a campaign to rid its streets of drunks, the social scientists were pre- pared to see a direct connection between oil and the resulting "crime wave"

(Klausner and Foulks, 1982). In fact, the police activity was very similar in its magnitude to another rural town where no oil development had occurred (Conn and Boedeker, 1983).

-32- 24 "During ••• (1972)" wrote project director (and later Director of the

Department of Public Safety) Bill Nix, "the Village Policemen handled ten felony cases, 418 misdemeanors, and numerous noncriminal complaints. Seven of the felonies resulted in court action and 128 of the misdemeanors resulted in court action. One hundred and fifty-one of the misdemeanors were handled by the

Village Policemen without court or Council action." (Department of Public

Safety, 1972, p. 1.)

As the project director described it in presenting other statistics for the year which showed court action on 63 cases and council action on 171, "[They] also illustrate a unique relationship of two branches of government within the

Criminal Justice system." (W. Nix, 1972:2) The report noted, "the council has levied $1,835.00 in fines, and 38 days of jail time. In almost every case, days of work for the village satisfied council sentences."

Criminal Justice Planning Agency personnel discouraged training of council- men with village police, viewing the former as inappropriate recipients of LEAA funds.

25 The 55 village study revealed that even in a sample skewed towards com- munities with magistrates, twenty-five percent of the villages surveyed con- tinued to use extra-legal councils or the more modern "problem boards" to solve some of their criminal law disputes.

26 However, a state attorney general's opinion warned against development of

"judgment boards" other than courts designated by the state court system

(Condon, 1982). 27 E.g., when rural defendants must be sent to jail for lack of adequate probation-parole services in village Alaska.

28 "Little effect is expected on village family structure if the head of the household works on the pipeline project and returns periodically during his employment" (Id.).

-33- 29 "The rest of the criminal justice system will be burdened in proportion to the increase in crime that occurs" (1971:154).

30 One of the most often repeated anecdotes of the pipeline period was the story of a person who had left his village for pipeline employment including the layover in Fairbanks only to return when it was discovered that his family had been threatened by village drunks.

-34- BIBLIOGRAPHY

Alaska Judicial Council 1970 "Conference Resolutions, First Bush Justice Conference, Girdwood, Alaska" (unpublished paper).

1974 Judicial Districting Report With Proposed Recommendations. Anchorage: Alaska Judicial Council.

Alaska, State of, Department of Law 1971 Comments on the Proposed Trans-Alaska Pipeline. Juneau, Alaska: Departmentof Law, State of Alaska.

Alaska, State of, Department of Law, Criminal Division 1976 An Impact Analysis of Construction of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline onthe Administration of Criminal Justice in Alaska. Juneau, Alaska: State of Alaska Department of Law.

Alaska, State of, Department of Public Safety 1972 "Village Police Training Annual Report." Unpublished grant report to the Criminal Justice Planning Agency.

1980 The Village Public Safety Officer Program: A Conceptual Design to Improve Law Enforcement and Public Safety in Rural Areas of Alaska. Juneau, Alaska: Department of Public Safety-.-

Alaska, State of, Planning and Management 1972 Alaska Community Survey Alaska Planning, Management. Anchorage, AK: State of Alaska Department of Community and Regional Affairs.

Angell, John E. 1977 "A Study of the North Slope Department of Public Safety, A Technical Assistance Report." Unpublished report for Mr. Ken (sic) Moeller, Director, North Slope Borough Department of Public Safety, Barrow, Alaska.

1979 Alaskan Village Justice: An Exploratory Study. Anchorage: Justice Center, University of Alaska.

1981 Public Safety and the Justice Sysstem in Alaskan Native Villages. Jonesboro, TN: Pilgrimage.

Anonymous 1983 "Native Hire Efforts Promised, Questioned," Tundra Times, Vol. 20, No. 47, November 23, p. 4.

Berry, Mary Clay 1975 The Alaska Pipeline: The Politics of Oil and Native Land Claims. Bloomington, Indiana: University of Indiana Press.

-35- Black, Donald 1976 The Behavior of Law. New York: Academic Press.

Case, David 1978 The Special Relationship of Alaska Natives to the Federal Government. Anchorage, AK: The AlaskaNative Foundation. --

Condon, Wilson 1982 "Local Judgment Board and Protective Custody Ordinance." Unpublished Memo from Wilson L. Condon, Attorney General, by John B. Gaguine, Assistant Attorney General, to Palmer Mccarter, Director, Local Government Assistance, Department of Community and Regional Affairs, July 19, 1982.

Conn, Stephen 1976 "The Extralegal Forum and Legal Power: The Dynamics of the Relationship - Other Pipelines," in Fogelson and Adams, Anthropology of Power: Ethnographic Studies from Asia, Oceania and the New World (Studies in Anthropology Seriesf:"""New York: Academic Press.

1977 Strangers in Our Midst. Unpublished research paper.

1980 "Alcohol Control and Native Alaskans - From the Russians to Statehood: The Early Years." Presentation to 1982 Annual Meeting, Academy of Criminal Justice Sciences, Louisville, KY.

1981 "Alaska Bush Justice: Legal Centralism Confronts Social Science Research and Village Alaska (Second Draft). Presentation to IUAES Commission on Contemporary Folk Law Meeting/Symposium, Bellagio, Lake Como, Italy.

1982 "Town Law and Village Law: Satellite Villages, Bethel and Alcohol Control in the Modern Era - The Working Relationship and Its Demise." Presentation to the 1982 Meeting of the American Society of Criminology, Toronto, Canada.

Conn, Stephen and Bonnie Boedeker 1983 "An Analysis of Outpatient Accident Trends in Two Dry Eskimo Towns as a Measure of Alternative Poli i ce Responses to Drunken Behavior," paper delivered at the Academv of Criminal Justice Sciences Annual Meeting. San Antonio. TX, March 24, 1983.

Conn, Stephen and Bart K. Garber 1981 Moment of Truth: The Special Relationship of the Federal Government to Alaska Natives and TheirTribes - Update and Analysis. Anchorage, AK: Justice Center, University of Alaska.

Conn, Stephen and Arthur Hippler 1973 "Traditional Northern Eskimo Law Ways and Their Relationship to Contemporary Problems of Bush Justice," ISEGR Occasional Paper #10. Fairbanks, AK: Institute of Social, Economic and Government Research, University of Alaska.

-36- 1974 "The Changing Legal Culture of the North American Eskimos," Ethos 2, 2:171-88.

1975 "The Village Council and Its Offspring: A Reform for Bush Justice," 5 UCLA-Alaska Law Review, Fall, No. 1, 22-57.

Friedman, Martin 1970 "The Problem of Drunk in Public Offenses in Alaska," Alaska Law Journal 17-20.

Havelock, John 1983 Interview.

Kelso, Dennis 1977 Social Systems Indicators of Alcoholism and Alcohol Abuse in Alaska, Vol. IV, Final Report, 1975. Juneau, AK: State Office of Alcoholism.

Klausner, Samuel z. and Foulks, Edward F. 1982 Eskimo Capitalists Oil, Politics, and Alcohol. Totowa, New Jersey: Allanheld, Osmun and Co. Pub., Inc.

Kraus, Robert F., M.D. 1977 "Eskimo Suicide." Unpublished study supportecl by National Institute of Mental Health Research Grants MH 18749 and MH 23233.

Lonner, Thomas D. and Duff, J. Kenneth 1983 Village Alcohol Control and The Local Option Law. Anchorage, AK: Center for Alcohol and Addiction Studies, University of Alaska.

MacAndrew, Craig and Robert E. Edgerton 1969 Drunken Comportment. Chicago: Aldine Publishing Co.

Marquez, Judith E. and Douglas J. Serdahely 1977 Alaska Court System Village Conciliation Board Project Evaluation. Anchorage, AK: Alaska Court System.

McBeath, Gerald A. and Morehouse, Thomas A. 1980 The Dynamics of Alaska Native Self-Government. Lanham, MD: University Press of America.

Moeller, Kim L. 1978 Challenge to The Police Role in Rural Alaska: The North Slope Borough Experience. Barrow, AK: Department of Public Safety, North Slope Borough.

NANA Development Corporation 1976 "North Slope Borough Plan for Public Safety Services." Anchorage: NANA Development Corporation.

Nix, William 1977a "Subgrantee Professional Report." Juneau, AK: Alaska Department of Public Safety (unpublished paper).

-37- 1977b Interview with John E. Angell

Parry, David 1983 "Institutionalization of Juveniles in Alaska." Unpublished research paper, Justice Center, School of Justice, University of Alaska.

Rural Impact Information Program 1977 The Impact of the Trans-Alaska Oil Pipeline on Rural Communities in Alaska's Interior. Fairbanks, AK: Fairbanks Town and Village Association.

Schwartz, Butch 1973 "CJPA to Hire Native Criminal Justice Planner," Alaska Criminal Justice Reporter 3-4. Juneau, AK: Alaska Criminal Justice Planning Agency (August).

Second Magistrates Advisory Committee 1978 "Tentative Draft Recommendations of the Second Magistrates Advisory Committee," prepared for the Alaska State Supreme Court (unpublished paper).

1979 "Recommendations of the Second Magistrates Advisory Committee," pre- pared for the Alaska State Supreme Court (unpublished paper).

Sellin, John A. 1981 "Village Public Safety Officer Program: First Annual Evaluation: Department of Public Safety." Fairbanks, AK: Community Collge (unpublished paper).

Strickland, Rennard et al. 1982 Felix Cohen's Handbook of Federal Indian Law. Charlottesville: Michie and Bobbs-Merrill.

Tussing, Arlon R. and Robert D. Arnold 1969 Eskimo Population and Economy in Transition: . Unpublished paper prepared for French Foundation of Northern Studies, Fourth International Congress, Rouen, France, November.

United States Department of the Interior 1972 Final Environmental Impact Statement on Proposed Trans-Alaska Pipeline. Volume 1. Introduction and Summary. Washington: Government Printing Office.

United States Senate Select Committee on Indian Affairs 1978 Consolidating Alaska Natives Governing Bodies. Hearings Before the United States Senate Select Committee on Indian Affairs, Ninety-Fifth Congress, First Session on S.1920 and S.2046. Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office.

CASES CITED

Gregory v.Alaska, 550 P.2d 374, 1976.

-38-